


heavy rain

by elevenoclock



Category: Contact (1997)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-03
Updated: 2011-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 23:40:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elevenoclock/pseuds/elevenoclock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't often rain in the deserts of Arizona.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heavy rain

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Session 4, Round 2 of The New Pub. The theme was "Textures & Sensations", and this piece was written in 20 minutes for the prompt "the feeling of heavy rain soaking through your hair and creeping down the back of your neck". Join us every Saturday afternoon at http://thenewpub.livejournal.com!

[original link](http://thenewpub.livejournal.com/6826.html)

It doesn't often rain in the deserts of Arizona. In fact, the year-round clear skies, extremely dry atmosphere, and lack of any lights for miles is why they built their array here; the fact that they're only a day's drive to Kitt Peak helps too, of course. But when it does rain, it's as though the heavens are opening up and you can hear God's voice in every shake of thunder, every crack of lightning-- Palmer's words, of course.

It's raining now, and Ellie can feel the water soaking her to the skin, feel it weighing her hair down and dripping down her back, feel it on every inch of her skin. Palmer is next to her, his fingers twined in her own; when she'd called him just a few hours ago, he'd dropped everything he was doing and practically stolen a jet from Washington Dulles.

Kent and Fisher are in the tent a few feet away. She can hear them exclaiming every few minutes. Shouts of joy punctuate the heavy beat of the rain, and there's a constant thrum in the background, an electronic signal that Ellie feels reflected against the hammering of her heart in her chest.

Palmer squeezes her hand, and she flashes him a grin before closing her eyes and turning her face up to the sky above her. The universe is all around her right now, the sound of the satellite array shifting positions, the storm raging around her, Palmer's breathing by her ear, and her friends and colleagues joy...

... and the thrumming in the background, a Fibonacci sequence that can only mean one thing: after a decade of silence, they're once again not alone in the universe.


End file.
